


honeysuckle.

by orphan_account



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1777, 1780, A Winter's Ball (Hamilton), F/M, First Meetings, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Revolutionary War, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Hamilton left, Eliza changed into her nightgown, fixing the faint fabric across her body. Within her translucent white curtains, she noticed a dot of yellow resulting from a lantern. Like before, she peered through, watching as Hamilton spoke with a servant and gave the familiar dazzling smile. He boarded the mustang, fixing his lead, and rode off into the distance. She watched him leave, leaning against the panel, her arms crossed over her chest as she rubbed the side of her index finger against her bottom lip.“Well, Sir Hamilton,” she breathed, “I do fantasize if our paths will collide once again.”—My own take on Alexander & Eliza during their first meeting(s).
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	honeysuckle.

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup homiez
> 
> this fic is not supposed to be scarily accurate. it's just my own twist on things, somewhat inspired by my recent viewing of "pride & prejudice."
> 
> important note ; with this fanfiction, you are free to depict whichever version of these characters as you wish. and in this fic, that is what they are to me personally: characters. i do not condone many of their namesakes' actions. while this is inspired by alexander hamilton & elizabeth hamilton's history, i am simply borrowing their story together. nothing more.

“Eliza.”

A pleasant dream she was once having— featuring a beautiful field dawned with wheat stalks, a long, flowing white dress draped across her body as she would blink up at the baby blue sky, reaching up to touch the cotton soft clouds. In her view, there was a figure in the distance, dressed as a man who seemed to be drowning in the wheat, beholding honeysuckle within his fingers, as far as she could tell.

 _“Betsey,_ c’mon.”

Eliza groaned at the sensation of her shoulder being nudged with a palm. Swatting at the arm, she turned over in her bed, pulling the blankets closer to her face.

She recognized the voice as her younger sister, Peggy. While she loved her sister, sleep was so, so enticing.

“The militia is coming today! They’re going to be in town soon. Please, come with me.”

Peeking open an eye and glowering at Peggy, she mumbled, “Get Angelica to go with you.”

Peggy pursed her lips, shaking her head, dark curls swiping across her shoulders. “No— no, she’s engaged, Betsey. I need another damsel with me.”

Eliza remarked under her breath, “That won’t stop her from fixing her eyes on a handsome young general—”

“Betsey! You said you would.”

Turning her chin sharply, she leered at Peggy, before finding her expression softening. With a sigh, she placed her hand on Peggy’s sternum and lightly pushed her away. “Alright, alright.” Eliza sat up, rubbing her back and watching as Peggy bounced on her bed excitedly. She was always a pleasuremonger, and Eliza couldn’t accept judgement on her as she was the same in secret.

Preparing her clothing, she fixed her hair in her vanity, placating a bonnet on her head, fixing the ribbon with an amused smirk at Peggy in her mirror who was rambling about the many handsome soldiers they could find; making up fantasies as she went along.

Three knocks were heard at the door, and Angelica walked in, blinking in surprise at Eliza.

“What?”

“You’re awake.”

Frowning, she leaned her hip against the drawers and allowed her palm to stable itself against the top. “Are you implying I’m inert, dear sister?”

Angelica smiled as she fixed a lace on Peggy’s dress. “Perhaps.”

Mocking a gasp, she placed her hand against her chest. “I’m insulted at the falsehood.”

“Mmm, explain why I had to call your name about seven times before you finally began to acknowledge my efforts,” Peggy teased from afar. With a light chuckle, Eliza shook her head, wondering when she would not be at the end of the banter.

“Mutiny,” Eliza playfully cooed as she patted down her dress.

Angelica let out an entertained scoff. “Mutiny would be you all against me.”

“Well, we all can’t argue now!” The youngest sister hooked her fingers beneath the front of her dress and pulled it up. “If we wait a moment more, we could miss it.” Peggy rushed out the door, holding her skirt upwards, hearing the swift footsteps down the wooden stairs. The two remaining women within the quarters shared an insightful look before following the renegade lass.

While they were on their way out of the door, a voice interrupted them. “And where do you all think you’re whisking off to?”

The three paused, turning their heads to gawk at their mother, Catherine Schuyler, who gazed at them with a fond look. She had assumed her sister had told mother about the town.

Catherine smiled, crows feet prominent beside her eyes. “I am just teasing. Please, come home with some amiable officers.” A wink was thrown at her daughters who grew flustered at the concept— aside from the married one, of course.

With a curtsy, they set off, rushing through the town, giggling breathlessly as they passed through townsfolk. They stopped at the corner of a retail store, surrounding a pillar that hoisted a sheltered roof upwards, Eliza leaned her side against the wood and witnessed Angelica and Peggy holding each other’s hands ecstatically. They were quite girlish— she had noticed how their behavior matched many pairs of women within the streets. Plenty were married, and it was only a given that a wife would be eager to see young handsome soldiers. She couldn't blame her sister; they were quite the eye-candy.

The severity of the situation had crept behind her like a shadow once the wave of a striped and starred flag caught her eye. There was a revolutionary war within America. While Eliza’s father had been a general, and she had attended meetings alongside him before, war was not something she would encourage by heart. However, with Britain’s taxing relentless, there had to have been no other choice. A small child ran through the cobblestone streets, cheering out, “They’re here!”

That they were. The city streets began to light up with interest, chatter sounding from each corner. Men in blue coats began to walk down the streets in a timed manner. Eliza perked at the various types of faces she witnessed. Peggy was restless.

Her eyes landed upon a figure. A man with a defined face, rosy cheeks, hairs growing on his chin, a curved nose, and hardened eyes that seemed bright underneath the sun. Eliza witnessed his irises glance around before moving towards her and her sisters. She found herself hiding behind the pillar slightly almost as self-defense. Then, his back was on them, and there were plenty of soldiers replacing his step. Eliza watched as Peggy flailed around her handkerchief almost excitedly, and she scoffed, moving forward to put her hand down.

“What?” The lass pouted.

Eliza rolled her eyes. “They’re soldiers, Peggy. They’re not gonna interrupt the rest to pick up your handkerchief. What a medieval display.”

Though, she watched all the soldiers pass curiously. While many were handsome, aged by war or youthful by the fire of fight, Eliza felt dissatisfied. Perhaps she needed to meet them, was what she was convincing herself, with the particular officer she had noticed earlier in mind as a cookie-cutter equivalent of a groom for her.

The soldiers had dispersed throughout town, some hanging around clinics, the others in groups in pubs, and she watched as Peggy trailed after one dreamily, Angelica and Eliza falling behind her, amused.

Angelica spoke up, “Have any been catching your eye, Eliza? I’ve noticed you pay them no mind.”

Called out, Eliza blinked her eyes, giving a sheepish shrug. “You know me, Angelica. I need a connection here, not just a pretty face,” she spoke while raising her brows at Peggy, who finally managed to find a conversation with a soldier. The soldier seemed amused at her antics. “Though, appearance would be a much joyful addition.”

“Maybe you’ll find a suitor within this group of men.” Angelica shrugged, clasping her hands in front of her stomach. “Whatever happens, don’t let Peggy claim victory of being wed before you.”

Eliza watched as Peggy beamed. “If I let down my front, I think she’s already victorious.”

The three continued throughout town before heading back home. The two were deep in a fanciful high from the adrenaline of town. Eliza’s arm was interlocked with Peggy’s, listening to the lass drawl on and on about one of the men she had met. Then, the other one, and then the next. Her sister was truly a light of life.

While they winded down at home, the sun in the middle of the sky, Eliza had been seated in her room sketching along the thin paper. Throughout the window, she noticed movement within the front of their home, and pulled aside her curtains to peek through the glass. She noticed a man on horseback, a blue coat attired on his feature, and she felt her attention peak. Eliza was not aware of the company they’d be having. Interest driving her, she set her sketching journal aside and began to head down the steps, gandering from the side and becoming witness to the footman escorting the stranger to her father’s office.

“Who’s that?” Flinching at the sound, Eliza whipped around to notice Peggy leaning over the stair’s railing before grinning at Eliza.

She shrugged. “I’m perplexed as well.” The attempt at a cool front was difficult, and Eliza was bad at lying. With the way Peggy smirked at her, she knew her cover was blown.

Peggy then headed down the manor towards their father’s office. Eliza followed, hesitant. “Peggy, we shouldn’t eavesdrop—”

“It’s fine. Really.”

“Peggy—”

She was shushed, and Eliza pouted, before feeling mischievous as well. Would it hurt to find out? Eliza stood beside the arch with Peggy, listening into the mahogany door. It was muffled, unreliable, and they had missed a good portion of the conversation.

They talked mostly about politics and familiar men’s names, which bored Peggy, who headed off. Eliza didn’t understand much of the war talk on a personal level, though she liked knowing facts regardless.

When the conversation came to a slow, her father offered, “Please, stay for dinner, Lieutenant Colonel. It would be our pleasure to have you.”

“That’s very hospitable, sir, I thank you.”

Eliza froze as she recognized the sound of her father’s chair scraping against the rug-covered wood. Panicking, she began to head down the hall, turning to the corner and finally hearing their voices clearer.

“I must attend to some manners with the post which should be headed soon. Though, I’d be happy to stay for dinner.” The colonel’s voice stuck out to her.

Her father seemed entertained. “That sounds decent to me. I must introduce you to my daughters and wife when you return. They would be honored to be in the company of Commander Washington’s aide-de-camp.” 

_Oh._ That’s how high-ranked this man was. George Washington’s right-hand man. She felt her throat dry.

She met Benjamin Franklin when she was only so young, it wasn’t a big deal, really, not at all, no. She’s met plenty of people. Knowing the light tone her father took on, she knew he was well aware of his daughter’s interests in being courted. Was this man handsome? Amiable? Strong, and kind?

Stepping ahead, she grunted when she bumped into an object. Moving out of the way, she was surprised when the object also made a noise in reply. Eliza must’ve bumped into a worker.

“I’m sorry, truly, I—” Glancing upwards, she noticed she had bumped into the lieutenant colonel himself.

 _Oh,_ she repeated in her head. Eliza recognized his face. That was the officer that caught her eye during the army’s arrival to town. Could it be that it was a pure coincidence?

He gave a smile. “My apologies, my lady.”

Eliza pinned her lips together and nodded, watching him descend the stairs. She looked back to the hallway and noticed that she wasn’t in the man’s direction at all previously. Befuddled, she began to ask herself if the aide-de-camp purposefully got in her way just to make contact with her. He would’ve noticed her.

Rushing towards the balcony within the hall, she gripped the rail, staring down at the main entrance. The man grabbed his hat, but he placed it against his chest and turned on his heel to glance up at Eliza. She didn’t even bother to wonder how the man knew she was going to be there— his notice of her almost too scarily timed.

“Was our collision planned by you?” Eliza blurted without care, realizing how improper it had been to say afterwards.

However, instead of being repelled by the manner, he smiled. “Consider it me watching your step for you.” The servants opened the door and escorted him out, leaving Eliza standing on the second floor, clueless.

Moving her hand to pinch her necklace and rub the smooth metal surface, Eliza knew she shouldn’t smile. She didn’t consider herself too girlish. Though, she smiled regardless of her inner denial.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, welcome. Please, I must introduce you to my daughters and wife.” Philip Schuyler had called down his family within the main entrance, the three offspring standing in a line, while his wife was only a few steps ahead of them, smiling generously.

Hamilton nodded, bowing his torso slightly. “It’s a pleasure to be acquainted with such fine ladies. Albany is an enchanting location.”

Eliza found a difficult time making eye contact with Hamilton. While they were escorted to the dining room, she found her voice failing her often. She could, of course, quip when mentioned in the discussion, but more often than not Eliza struggled to put a word on her mind. She was seated at the table, finding her nerves easing once she had some wine to wash down the sheer nervousness she felt around the attractive and tantalizing officer.

He was definitely charming. If she looked hard enough, she could even see Angelica entranced with the way he portrayed himself. Though, she’d pay it no mind, poking at the salted pork and sweet potatoes with her silverware, engaging in conversation and resulting in a few guffaws around the table with her humor.

When Hamilton left, Eliza changed into her nightgown, fixing the faint fabric across her body. Within her translucent white curtains, she noticed a dot of yellow resulting from a lantern. Like before, she peered through, watching as Hamilton spoke with a servant and gave the familiar dazzling smile. He boarded the mustang, fixing his lead, and rode off into the distance. She watched him leave, leaning against the panel, her arms crossed over her chest as she rubbed the side of her index finger against her bottom lip.

“Well, Sir Hamilton,” she breathed, “I do fantasize if our paths will collide once again.”

—

**TWO YEARS LATER**

Seated within the carriage, she had her chin on her palm, staring out the revealed opening and glancing at the passing trees. The clicking of Clydesdale hooves against gravel and cobblestone was the only thing she heard for a long period of time. Footmen weren’t exactly great conversationalists, as they did what they had to for currency. It wasn’t much of a bother; Eliza didn’t mind the quiet.

Houses began to trickle in, and she noticed patriotic soldiers among the streets. Eliza had known she was in Morristown then. The carriage stopped at a white paneled house, and the door opened to reveal the steps. She was helped down and watched as her aunt grinned at her from the top of the staircase. Watching the lady pick up the round of her dress and rush down, she was engulfed in an embrace.

“Oh, Eliza,” Gertrude cooed as she gave a squeeze before releasing her. “I must inquire how your trip went.” She waved her hand to rush the servants to grab Eliza’s belongings, pushing them inside.

Eliza felt as if she was more than capable of doing it herself, but she smiled nonetheless. “It went well. It was quiet.”

Gertrude gave a hum of amusement, accompanying Eliza inside of the home. “Without your dear sister Peggy to lighten up the trip, I am sure you had a serene ride.” A pleasantly occupied scoff was her response.

“Eliza,” her uncle, Dr. John Conchran, spoke up from above the stairs. She watched the man head down and take her hand, kissing the knuckles graciously. “It’s good to see you in fine health. It’s been so long.”

“I am eager to help with the war efforts,” Eliza curtseyed. “My wishes are with the militia, I’ve heard it is keeping up poorly.”

The general surgeon smiled, though she noticed the melancholy in his gaze. “Unfortunately, the resources are less than pleasurable. The men are struggling. We need all the help we can get. Kitty, Angelica, and Peggy should all arrive within a week or two.”

With a patient expression and her regards, she began to unpack her things within the guest bedroom once disbanding from the discussion, rubbing her back from the knots given to her by the bumpy carriage. Eliza rolled her neck and headed back down the steps, noticing two officers in the house speaking with John.

The two officers were intrigued by her presence once she was introduced as Elizabeth Schuyler. When they left, she watched out the window of them walking down the street. Eliza knew she was freshly twenty-two, she was expected to marry quite soon, and the party of men that were eager for a mistress to return to after the hard war were expected to catch her eye.

Perhaps they did meet her eye. Eliza felt her finger twirl her hair before moving to a desk and feeling herself play with the parchment idly. Who would she marry, if anyone? A bland man whom her father requested? A young, impressionable man who she’d elope with, alike Angelica, and receive coldness? While she was aware that she was not the hopeless romantic type— she was a marked coquette, after all— it didn’t hurt to ponder.

A man with bright eyes, or a man with a bright personality? Both? A spark of passion, she decided she yearned, she wanted a man with fervor for not only his country and cause, but her as well. 

“Those young gentlemen were just in here talking about a ball,” Gertrude spoke up from beside her, causing her attention to fall astray. She blinked owlishly at her aunt, who smiled benignantly in reply. “When your sisters and mama arrive, I believe it’d be in your best interest to attend. Meet some august swains, hm?”

Timid, Eliza glanced at the ground. Letting down her previous frets, she gave a long, content exhale and nodded. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to a ball.” She clasped her hands together while grinning at her relative, mirroring the expression.

“I hope you remember how to country dance.”

Eliza beamed. “With the gloom, I could never forget.”

Feeling the need to walk and discover the town, Eliza had excused herself to the outdoor world. While she was alone, the damsel appreciated the peace that came with the chilled wintry air, passerby folk’s conversations lulling her in before disappearing from her attention. She walked amongst Morristown’s streets, she was headed towards a tailor before stumbling along an old friend who was exiting the premises.

“Lieutenant Colonel Tilghman,” Eliza recognized. The man seemed to grin at her presence.

“Miss Schuyler,” he spoke, offering his hand in which Eliza accepted, feeling him kiss her knuckles. “My, it has been ages since I have last seen you.”

A fond memory of scaling Cohoes Falls alongside Tilghman and company. She gave a short chuckle underneath her breath, shaking her head. “I hope your climbing techniques have improved since then.”

Tilghman lit up. “Of course. A part of me is optimistic you’re here to tailor a dress for the winter’s ball this upcoming month?” The advertisement was sly, but welcome.

Eliza exaggerated, putting a hand against her mouth and tilting her chin slightly away from the lieutenant. “How’d you find out?”

“A Schuyler can never resist a promised time with soldiers.”

After a chummy exchange, Eliza was back left to her own company, getting a dress tailored. Continuing throughout the town to receive ribbons, and extra drawing supplies for her scribbles, she weaved through streets before looking over an open field with blanketed snow. Eliza paused, touching the fencing, gazing at the substance that sparkled underneath the sunlight. She didn’t care much for snow, or the winter, but it was always a pleasant sight to see. She witnessed children ruining the perfect layering, making trails behind them, the powder fluffing up and breaking apart beneath their shoes.

Eliza’s heart felt fond. Perhaps, one day, she would join the children— in which she could call her own— and joyously relish in the feeling of being a mother.

She continued back to the house.

—

Stepping out of the carriage, she felt her heart accelerate at the sight of the several carriages and groups of people. A bunch of folk were gathered outside of the building, eager to get in and have their share of drink and dance like the others. Peggy had her arm linked with hers with a pep in her step, her painted lips grinning wide, Angelica and Catherine trailing behind them and indulged in gracious conversation.

Eliza caught the sight of many men she had once seen in uniform with more richer fits. A soft expression held her face, acknowledging that the staff finally had time to settle and embark in excitement instead of devoured by grim war. The Schuylers were permitted entrance, and the burst of upbeat music caught her ear.

She loved music. She loved the artistry behind poetry, she loved writing and drawing, her inner artisan flourishing. Peggy was already found surrounding herself with familiar faces while Eliza excused herself to the refreshments. Moving past stocks of raw wood, she had a glass of cider, sipping it carefully while she watched women and men form a line and begin a country dance.

Eliza perked as her mother strode over with a smile. “Already you found yourself with the drinks. The night just started, my beloved.”

She raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “It’s cider, mama.”

“So…” her mother dropped her expression, leaning closer, “any of them catch your eye yet?”

“We just got here,” Eliza defended.

“That didn’t stop your younger sister.”

Peggy was already on the floor, moving amongst the crowd, giving a spin and holding her dress upwards while twirling around a partner. “Well, she’s the life of the party, along with Angelica.” While Angelica wasn’t indulging in dance, she was surrounded by plenty of people, popular with her politics.

That left Eliza.

Right when her thoughts were about to jump ahead of her, she spotted Tilghman coming their way. Tilghman smiled at Eliza, though she could sense an apprehensive aura around him.

“Mrs. Schuyler,” he nodded towards Catherine, “and Ms. Schuyler. I was wondering if I could invite this young lady to dance with me,” Tilghman spoke up, tilting his head at Eliza, who blinked in surprise.

“It would be an honor to see my daughter dance with such an officer.” Her mother smiled down at her, placing a hand on the small of her back and urging her. “Go on, now. Have fun.”

Eliza was modest when taking the Lieutenant Colonel’s hand. They joined the next round of dance, a familiar skipping style of turning and resting wrists against the other. Tilghman humored her, and she felt entertained. Though, while dancing with the man, she could feel something lacking. Of course, not everything was a promise of courtship, but with a damsel like Eliza on the market it was safe to assume all the men around her were potential suitors— she could tell by the way men would glance at her studiously.

When she got a rest from Tilghman, she got another invitation to dance from another officer. Then another. Then another. Eliza, winded, finally managed to sneak by during Washington’s minuet. Pouring herself sangaree, she drank, feeling the alcohol give her more energy than before— which was requested. She noted that the amount of men heavily outranked the women population within the storehouse. There were only sixteen including herself, she counted, and Eliza found herself exhausted at the thought.

“Why, it’s the belle of the ball! Elizabeth Schuyler.”

Eliza jumped at the sudden voiced intrusion. Rotating her head, she found herself wincing before blinking widely at a man she never thought she’d see again. Alexander Hamilton stood with a flute glass of champagne in his hand, smiling down at the lass.

With an amused snort, she jested once acknowledging her memory of him, “Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton… I’d hardly say that with my family here.”

Hamilton gave a short shrug. “My fellow officers are all vying for the sweet maid’s hand in dance,” he told with a quirk of his lips. “I can’t help but to admit I am one of them.”

Her face flushed. The storehouse was unheated, but warmth still found a way to slick at her skin from the dancing and the compliments. “I can’t say I’m a spectacular dancer after the rounds I’ve gone through, but I can fit one for a peculiar aide-de-camp,” Eliza playfully remarked. They set down their glasses and headed towards the floor, Hamilton offering his arm and Eliza taking it.

“Well, I sure hope you don’t mean Tilghman, Ms. Schuyler.”

She puffed out her cheeks to hold in a laugh.

Eliza was having a blast as she twirled around with Hamilton on the floor. Once they were whisked away from each other, voices being drowned out unfortunately, they would come back together and speak vigorously. When the dance was over, Eliza was breathless, red in the face, but also ecstatic.

“My! I didn’t think you were such a dancer,” Eliza spoke while placing a hand on her chest, giving a giggle of amusement at the officer’s false insulted front.

“Now, just because I am His Excellency’s aide-de-camp does not mean I cannot have fun,” Hamilton spoke with pride, “...Though, I cheated a bit. I am most joyous with such pleasant company, my skills must’ve been far superior than my average.”

Flush, she pinched her lips together. “You flatter me. I am delighted to return the comment, Colonel. I hope these two years have been good on you,” she made conversation, idly noting that Hamilton had yet to leave her side as they walked to the side of the building. “It’s seemed like forever since that dinner long ago.”

Hamilton gave a sorry nod. “With the war and its current state, two years have felt like two lifetimes. With that, I’m surprised you have not forgotten me.” The man gave a laugh that Eliza could almost count as insecure. She witnessed his eyes surveying the room and landing somewhere, and Eliza moved her head to look at what he was witnessing, Though, it was interrupted when she felt a hand on hers, and he smiled down at her, capturing her attention once more.

“You’re surprisingly difficult to forget, dear sir,” Eliza said earnestly, “My family is quite fond of you. Even if I wanted to, I’d be unable to wipe your name from my mind.”

Hesitance followed, before Hamilton quipped, “Implying you want my name to stay in your thoughts?” His charming smile captured her.

Eliza chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s difficult to forget the high-ranked officer who bumped into me on purpose in my own home…” she accused, staring up at the dark-haired man through her eyelashes.

A purse of his lips, they slowly curled upwards, a drawled out “Touché” was given in response under his breath. Hamilton smirked. “Clever girl, even then.”

“A proud Schuyler trait.” Eliza did a short half-hearted curtsy. “Care to explain to me why you embarrassed me like that? Quite heartless for such an endearing patriot.” She was sure her tone was light.

Hamilton let out a mused hum. “What was it I said… I was watching your step for you?” He queried, “Perhaps that is still accurate.”

She was puzzled, pausing her step and looking up at him. “Why is that so?”

“I seem to keep running into you.” Hamilton gave a warm smile. “I recalled seeing you and your sisters at the march. Then, within the same day, I meet with your father and notice you following me from afar, listening in the door… I mind as well finally knock into my curious peeper.”

Eliza felt coy. That day had felt like yesterday, she memorized it vividly, astounded that Hamilton noticed her from the march. She faced away, and Hamilton noticed, speaking up. “Not that I minded. She’s a sweet maid, and quite the sight to see. A good conversationalist, too.”

Exalted, she replied, “Watch out. One more quality and I might grow an ego, Hamilton.”

A long chuckle resulted from the officer, shaking his head. “It’s this stuffy room. I apologize if I come off too strong, Ms. Schuyler, but I don’t take back my words.” They paused at a dimly lit corner of the area, releasing arms, and when Eliza was pondering if the man was off to excuse himself. Though, his next words surprised her. “I hope this encounter will not be like our former meeting.”

Eliza studied his eyes, eyebrows pinning together, confused. “What do you mean, Colonel?”

“Alexander,” he breathed. “You may call me Alexander.”

Smiling, she tested the name. “Alexander,” she droned. This seemed to enrapture Hamilton, his lips sparsely opening, pupils dilated, as far as she could tell. Eliza tried not to let her enchantment towards the man distract her, “Well, Alexander, you can call me Betsey, if you wish. My dearest refer to me as that.” Her vocabulary was careful.

The officer in front of her was talented, skillful, ambitious, and passionate, and the way his teeth began to show through his grin when her words settled into his ears made her heart race in a way it hadn’t before. “Betsey.”

Something was there. She could feel it. Standing there, with her hands clutching her dress and her pulse throbbing against her skin, Eliza then knew what she had felt; incredibly helpless.

“Betsey!” Another voice called, and Eliza took a moment before turning her head to notice Peggy waving to her. “It’s time to go.”

Facing the ground, her hands fiddled together and clutched onto themselves tightly. She was just starting to enjoy her time there. Eliza found Hamilton gazing at her, and he offered with a light, hinting tone, “I hope, when my letters reach you, that you reply.”

The innuendo was obvious. Hamilton was interested, and by God, if she does everything right she won’t have to suffer through another forced interaction of a courting bland officer. Eliza began to rush her words. “Yes, yes, I would love to hear from you again soon. I would be most honored, Alexander.” She felt foolish, preventing her arms from flailing upwards and smacking herself straight in the forehead.

Though, Hamilton clutched at one of her hands, pulling the knuckles up to his mouth and giving them a kiss. While she had been through this process many times before, this was different, this was new, and the skin his flesh touched seemed to burn with unexamined libido.

“I bid you adieu, Betsey. For now.”

Their hands remained together for a moment— and Eliza could’ve been drawing out the time for all she cared, time didn’t exist for her— and only two words were able to release from her lips.

“For now.”

That night had resulted in teasing from Peggy and Angelica, both amused as they had seen the charming swain’s interactions with the helpless damsel. Eliza had rolled her eyes, and she had crawled through the house, slipping into her bed, pulling her pillow tight to her face and unable to stop the kittenish fits of laughter resulting. Kicking her legs, she rolled to her back, arms stretched out like bird wings.

Puffing out her cheeks, pinching her lips together, she blew out air and gave a melodious, “Alexander.” Rubbing her hands over her face, she squeezed her dark strands of hair and suspired once more, “Alexander.”

Her subconscious repeated the dream she had two years before of the field of wheat. The honeysuckle wielding man turned and viewed her, and she could recognize the face of youth that sought her. Eliza ran through the field, and the man outstretched his arms, resulting in her leaping in them and twirling about the field, the honeysuckle blossoms within his hand being caught in her hair.

Another recitement of the charming aide-de-camp’s name passed her lips as she slept.

**Author's Note:**

> http://lovemeiconjureyou.tumblr.com


End file.
